


Call Me Calmly

by emmiepsyko



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmiepsyko/pseuds/emmiepsyko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff comes up with a new plan to get easy credits, but ends up with more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Calmly

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after 2.09, Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design, and based rather loosely on the Barenaked Ladies song of the same title. I couldn't resist it. 
> 
> This was slated to be porn, and it will be. Eventually.

Upon enrolling at Greendale, it hadn't taken Jeff Winger long to form certain impressions of the school. It had taken even less time for most of those impressions to be turned on their heads. In the end, Greendale turned out to be both perfectly predictable and ridiculously difficult to pin down. It was an endlessly odd place, simultaneously surprisingly demanding of its students and almost ludicrously easy on them, where the outlandish was treated as commonplace and taken as said, while the things he had always seen as normal seemed to twist, becoming more outlandish the more time he spent there. It was a school run by a man just as odd and full of contradictions as it was, often bumbling and always exceedingly strange, but clearly filled with integrity and love for his school. 

Though that last, Jeff was beginning to realize, may have been a mistaken assumption. 

Oh, not the love part. It was entirely obvious that the dean loved Greendale and its students with a depth of affection that sometimes bordered on creepy, and the rest of the time hopped right across that border and did a little dance. Literally. 

As for integrity, though...

Jeff was still reeling from the amount of effort his fake blow-off class had ultimately required, not to mention the fact that after all of it, he hadn't even gotten the credit. He should have been furious. He surely would have been, if not for two facts. 

_One_ , it had been a surprising amount of fun. And he couldn't help noticing that the dean -- or at least, messing with him, anyway -- had been a large part of that fun. Which led him to _two_ , more importantly, he couldn't help noticing that the dean was a bit of an idiot. An infinitely suggestible idiot, in particular. 

And really, was there any better kind?

Jeff knew, given a proper verbal run-up, he coult talk him into handing over the credit. But the more he thought over the situation and how best to approach the dean, the more he realized that his brilliant plan had had one major drawback -- namely, the fact that a fake independent study was good for only one credit. 

He could do better.

One other thing that had become abundantly clear, especially after the dean's participation in the endless web of conspiracies: while the man loved all his students, he loved some more than others. It led to an idea that a lesser man might have called slightly immoral, but Jeff merely considered practical. A highly practical exchange between two interested parties. 

And the dean was clearly interested. That wasn't -- well, mostly wasn't -- even arrogance on Jeff's part. The most casual of observers could probably spot in a moment both that the dean was attracted to him, and that the man's sexuality was bound up in a web or neuroses and complications that made the conspiracy class look simple. 

As for Jeff, he was extremely interested...in easy credits and getting out of Greendale as fast as possible. Still, the dean wasn't entirely repulsive, at least in his saner moments. If he could give the man his fantasy while helping himself out, well, he called that a win all around. He just needed the perfect approach...

x

"Hey, so, I wanted to say I'm really sorry about the whole conspiracy thing, and...I was thinking maybe I could make it up to you. Maybe at my place?"

The dean's icy glare alerted Jeff to the fact that the actual perfect approach might have involved giving the man more than a day to cool off. 

"Jeffrey, I was willing to consider your actions merely 'playful' and 'mildly psychologically scarring,'" the dean said, inclining his head in time with the finger quotes, "but if you're going to continue to be so openly cruel..."

All right, so maybe it hadn't been the best -- "Wait, what? Who's being cruel?"

"You are!" The dean burst out. "Clearly you've noticed that I have a bit of a --" he waved a hand helplessly, apparently unable to go on.

"Massive ridiculous crush on me?" Jeff supplied helpfully.

"Thank you." The reply was terse but, Jeff suspected, genuine. He found himself oddly grateful for the return of the glare -- for a moment there, tears had seemed imminent. "You have made it perfectly clear that you're not able to reciprocate, or even acknowledge, my feelings. I can accept that, but I never would have believed that you would _mock_ \--"

"Hey, wait. Stop." Jeff held his hands up slightly, placating, as the meaning behind the dean's babbling clicked into place. "I'm not screwing with you. This is a real offer."

The dean's flickering expression solidified into what could only be described as a suspicious pout. "And what's in it for you?"

"You," Jeff lied easily, pleased to have been handed such a neat lead-in. "Look, I'm obviously not boyfriend material. I can't be that for you. But that doesn't mean I can't...reciprocate." He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't misjudging the timing here. "And...well...maybe a few free credits?"

"Jeffrey!" the dean cried, indignant but -- it had to be said -- not actually refusing. "Are you offering to sell your body for Greendale credits?"

"I know, I could do so much better. Kidding! Kidding," Jeff added quickly. "Look, I just thought we might come to a...mutually beneficial agreement," he continued with a smirk and a carefully calculated eyebrow raise. 

For a moment, it seemed perhaps he really had gone too far -- but only for a moment, before the dean's expression softened considerably. "Your place?" he asked quietly. Hopefully. "Ah, when?"

Jeff let the smirk drop slightly, fading into something more like genuine bedroom eyes. "Right now, if you want."

"I never imagined it happening this way," the dean breathed. 

"So you have imagined this happening, then?" Jeff grinned, amused...but also oddly pleased. Why did he find that idea so appealing, exactly? He'd only meant to turn off his knee-jerk creeped-out reaction enough to see the potential here, but apparently with that done, his libido had decided to take the thing all the way. 

The dean flushed, pressing his lips together, and looked up at Jeff shyly, nervous but, now that this was actually, obviously happening, not ashamed. "Well, I had pictured myself as the h-- the, ah, the one selling it."

Jeff laughed. "Yeah, except for the part where I'd nevvv--" His mouth stalled out as his brain caught up to the fact that ending that sentence with "er pay for sex with you" was a _very bad idea_. 

"I'd, never take advantage of you like that, I mean, this may not be entirely aboveboard, but at least I'm willing, and, uh --" Crap. He could only hope that the dean would be touched enough by the sentiment -- or by his winning smile -- to miss the fact that he wasn't making much in the way of sense. 

"Oh, I assure you, Jeffrey, I would be very willing. Uh." To Jeff's surprise, the blush deepened, the dean's momentary confidence faltering. While he could, on occasion, be coy about his crush, he had never actually seemed terribly embarrassed by it before. Even a moment earlier, he had seemed flustered speaking so openly, but not at the words themselves. "I, ah, not just with you, I mean, though of course I, well, I suppose that goes without saying at this point, but well, the idea of being a -- well, the idea itself is something of a turn-on," he finished, eyes fixed on the floor. 

_Ah_. "You can call me a hooker, you know," Jeff smirked, piecing it together. "I guess technically, I am, and damn," he blinked, head canting to the side, "why _is_ that so hot?"

Apparently it was the right thing to say, as the dean managed to tentatively meet his eyes again. "So, your place?" he repeated, still sounding slightly disbelieving. 

"Unless doing it in your office is another turn-on for you," Jeff grinned, mostly teasing, although...the odds were good, and so was the idea, he realized. Doing this on-campus would make it more intense, less personal -- in short, easier to fake. Easier to sidestep any sort of mistaken impressions. And the dean was clearly considering it, but -- 

"Maybe next time."

...what was that about mistaken impressions? And whose were they, exactly? Now it had been mentioned, Jeff realized it had been foolish to expect this to be a one-time deal.


End file.
